


Family Game Night

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, F/M, M/M, Multi, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 14:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11853417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Maedhros livens things up during a dull family reunion by challenging Fingon to three rounds of Truth or Dare.





	Family Game Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katnor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katnor/gifts).



> This is something of a sequel to 'Just Ask'. Both katnor and sienna wrote some really nice comments about that piece, and this is the result of those suggestions and questions. Thank you both - without your comments, this would never have happened (and there's a sweet little section between Glorfindel and Fingon in this that would otherwise have not occurred... I'll say no more so I don't spoiler!) 
> 
> A special thanks to Nuinzilien for helping me to name this piece. You don't want to know what the working title was... thanks, Nui!

Family reunions were especially chaotic events for the Finwë clan. Although the estate was rather large, and there were ample rooms for many guests, the ever-expanding family still posed a challenge for Indis, who very much insisted upon everyone attending. Everyone included even the least favored of her relations. For some time she had not pressured Fingon to bring Erestor with him, and as Glorfindel did attend the reunions (and would have regardless), it did not leave Fingon alone. It did, however, leave Erestor by himself at some inn in the vicinity of Finwë’s estate until Galadriel finally inquired, and then threatened not to show up the next year if the invitation was not equally extended to all.

For this reason, Erestor was now settling down on a couch between Fingon and Glorfindel with his cup of tea and a buttered crumpet. Glorfindel was also partaking in an afternoon snack, while Fingon studied loose pages with a furrowed brow.

“Did you bring work with you?” asked Finrod as he entered the sunroom with Amarië beside him. “Do not let grandmother see you with that,” he warned when Fingon only shrugged in answer.

“I need to get things done,” he replied. 

“What is so important that you cannot spend a week with your family?” And then Maedhros had the sheets, snagged out of Fingon’s grasp.

“Give them back,” Fingon said calmly. While relations had improved between himself and Maedhros, they were not completely healed. He gave it a moment before he reached out in an attempt to take the papers back, but Maedhros stepped away. “I am serious. I need those.”

“You do not need these right now,” decided Maedhros. “I cannot imagine there is high pressure to recatalog a section of books while you are supposed to be on holiday.” He looked at the other librarians in the room for further affirmation.

Finrod alleviated the need for Erestor to make a decision between the truth and supporting his lover. “Those can wait. Honestly, Fingon, relax. Have you tried grandmother’s potato salad? It is the best batch yet.”

Fingon sat back, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Finrod.

“I am not going to give them back,” said Maedhros as he sat down in a chair next to the one that Gildor was sitting in. “I will, however, give you the chance to win them back.”

Fingon redirected his ire at Maedhros. “They belong to me.”

“Which is why you can try to win them back, but no one else can,” said Maedhros. 

“I am not interested in games,” huffed Fingon.

“Good guess,” said Maedhros. “A game was just what I was going to suggest.”

“Oh?” Finrod looked slightly more interested in Maedhros’ idea than his heaping bowl of potato salad. “What sort of game?”

“A game of truths and dares,” said Maedhros.

“Absolutely not interested,” answered Fingon. “Not after the last time.”

Glorfindel looked slightly more concerned now than he had a moment ago. “The last time?”

“What happened the last time?” prodded Gildor.

Finrod grinned. “Maedhros was dared to--”

“No,” interrupted Fingon, as he was already turning red in the face.

Erestor looked all around the room at everyone. “Perhaps you should just give those back,” he advised Maedhros.

“I promise whatever I dare him to do will not be as embarrassing as what happened during the last game,” said Maedhros. Off to the side, Amarië and Finrod were whispering to one another. Finrod cupped a hand around his mouth and shared something in a low voice, to which Amarië covered her mouth and let out a little squeak of laughter.

“Did you just tell her?” Fingon narrowed his eyes so that they were bright slits of disapproval.

“It is not that bad,” said Finrod.

“I hate you all,” said Fingon. He quickly turned to Erestor and Glorfindel. “Not you,” he corrected.

“What about me?” insisted Gildor.

“Guilt by association,” said Maedhros. “Come on, Fingon. What happened to your sense of adventure? You used to be the most exciting person I knew.” He straightened out the pages he held and added, “What, are you… scared?”

This had the desired effect on Fingon. “Fine. What are your terms?”

Maedhros grinned. “Three rounds. You cannot pick the same thing twice. You get all three, you get your stuff back.”

Fingon looked at Maedhros with determination. “Fine. Dare.”

This seemed to surprise everyone. "I was not expecting that," admitted Maedhros.

"I know," said Fingon with a smirk. "And do remember, if you stall for too long, you will forfeit and need to take a penalty."

Maedhros looked at Fingon for a moment with his mouth gaping open, but a smile behind it. "So there he is, the old sassy badger," said Maedhros. "Well shit, I was not prepared for this..."

"Russo! Psst!" Finrod waved him over.

"Oh, right! If he is not on my team any more, then you can be on my team," said Maedhros as he crossed the room.

"I did not know this game was team-oriented," said Glorfindel.

"It is not. There are no teams in Truth or Dare," scolded Fingon, but when Maedhros did not stop until he was crouched down beside Finrod's chair to listen to his idea, Fingon put an arm around Erestor. "Fine. He is on my team, then."

Erestor looked up with alarm. "How did I get involved in this?"

"And that is why I sit on this side," Glorfindel decided.

"Ha! Perfect," said Maedhros as he stood up again. He pointed his wrist, devoid of the fake hand he typically wore in public, at Fingon. "I dare you to eat one of grandmother's honeymoon pastries in its entirety."

"I truly hope that is not a euphemism," said Erestor.

Fingon closed his eyes and shook his head. "Fine."

"And I am going to pick it!" announced Finrod gleefully. He set his food down on a table and bounded out of the room.

"You are taking far too much delight in this already," said Fingon.

Maedhros only grinned. "I have a feeling I am going to keep these for a while," he said of Fingon's paperwork.

"You wish."

Finrod returned with a small plate. On it, the treat covered nearly the entire surface. Perhaps there was a pastry there, but it was buried under several layers of chocolate ganache, whipped vanilla buttercream, sprinkles of nuts and candies, and all of it topped with a single candied cherry. "Enjoy, cousin!"

"What, no fork?" Fingon turned the plate with disdain as he examined it.

"You are the only person who eats stuff like that with a knife and fork," said Finrod.

"No fork," declared Maedhros. He returned to sit with Gildor.

“That actually looks delicious,” said Gildor, and he left the room in search of one.

Fingon lifted the pastry and took a tentative tiny bite from one small part that was not covered in additional sugary substances. As he chewed apprehensively, Finrod laughed. “This is going to take all afternoon!”

“If Erestor is on my team, he gets to help me, right?” questioned Fingon as watched a few chunks of nut roll off of the heaping mound of fluff and onto the plate.

“Absolutely not,” answered Maedhros.

After tilting it this way and that, Fingon shook his head. “This thing is so big, I cannot get my mouth around it.”

“I heard that before.”

Fingon glared at Maedhros again. “I will have my revenge,” he vowed. 

Maedhros only smiled.

All eyes remained on Fingon after Gildor’s return. Indeed, it was slow going as Fingon battled his way through the sweet. At one point, he ended up with cream on his nose. “These should be illegal. I think all this sugar is burning my throat.”

“I really liked it for the first few bites, but I have to agree,” said Gildor, who had only managed a third of the treat. “Why not make smaller ones?”

“Grandmother never does anything if not in excess. Go big or go home,” said Maedhros.

“But… she is home,” Gildor pointed out.

Fingon cleared his throat as he momentarily set the plate aside and reached for Erestor’s glass of water. “I just realized, the more I stall, the longer you get to plot against me.”

Maedhros grinned again.

Gildor nudged Maedhros. "This seems cruel and unusual. Maybe you can amend it to half."

Maedhros looked appalled. "Whose side are you on?"

Finrod laughed at his son. "Have you never played Truth or Dare before? It is intended to be cruel and unusual."

Gildor snorted. "Of course I have played. And how. In fact, if this is the best you can come up with, Father, it may be wise if I do not share the sorts of ideas in my mind, for it may be unsettling, though not in the cruel way, no. I prefer my games of Truth or Dare to lean into the territory of amorous and unseemly." 

"Definitely your son," interjected Amarië.

Now it was Finrod who blushed and Gildor who smirked.

Meanwhile, Fingon continued his task. "If I die of sugar poisoning, Maedhros, it is all your-- wait, no, it is your fault and it is Finrod's fault, and I will make sure that grandmother is well aware of it."

"No one can die of sugar poisoning." Maedhros set the sheets of paper aside, yet well out of Fingon's reach. "How is it your brother manages to eat four of those in one sitting, and you are struggling with one?”

Fingon did not answer, for he made a sudden noise of surprise. “I had no idea this thing had a cream center,” he said as he wiped liquid chocolate filling from his chin with his finger. 

“Again, I heard that before.”

Fingon set the plate down and sucked the filling and cream from his fingers. “I need a break from that. How about we move to the second part, and I will get back to that before the end.”

“I would say no, except I already know what I want to ask you, and you are required to answer a truth,” Maedhros reminded him. 

“Bring it,” said Fingon.

“Who gives better head, Erestor or Glorfindel?” Maedhros looked quite pleased with himself.

Fingon sobered immediately and stared at the half-eaten pastry. Then something brushed past his ear, and he turned his head just a bit as Erestor leaned in and whispered to him. He smiled and said, “Obviously, Glorfindel is known for his golden beauty, but from a farming standpoint, Erestor wins.”

Maedhros’ smile dissipated. “I do not get it.”

“I grow some of the best heads of cabbage on the entire island,” declared Erestor. “As for lettuce - do not even get me started on my butter lettuce! It is--”

“That was not the question, and you know it,” 

"It is true, though. Erestor is known for giving away heads of cabbage and lettuce because they grow into giant things and we can never finish them all before they go bad. I answered the question. It is not my fault if you are unable to word your query in such a way as to alleviate confusion," said Fingon. "You should have thought of that before you rushed ahead and blurted it out."

"You received help on that one," Maedhros argued.

"You got help on the first one," retorted Fingon.

"Boys, boys, boys." Gildor had his hands up in an effort to calm them. "Can we agree that there is one round left, and Maedhros has the pleasure of presenting a dare, and that the results will settle it?"

"He still has to finish that," Maedhros declared as he thrust an arm out at the plate.

"I know I do," snapped back Fingon.

"Were these games always like this?" questioned Glorfindel. "I cannot see how this would have been fun."

"The point of Truth or Dare is supposed to be to enjoy and to allow for relaxation and... the ability to let go of morals and judgement and just have fun. And perhaps get to snog someone or grab an ass or two without bias," said Gildor. “Perhaps you might devise a more… enjoyable dare for this last round,” he suggested to Maedhros.

"Definitely your son," Amarië said in a sing-songy voice to her husband.

"He better be," Finrod replied.

"One more round." Fingon picked up the plate again. "Go on, then. I am waiting," he said as he dabbed his finger into the cream and sucked it off.

"I feel like the easy dare of would just lack creativity,” said Maedhros. 

“What would the easy dare be?” pressed Fingon.

“To make you do what I was made to do that last time, but just reverse it.”

Fingon sneered a little. “I am not going to suck your cock. You can keep the damned papers.”

“Why would… oh!” Gildor stopped himself from asking the question, and instead said, “I get it. Maedhros was dared to…” But then there was another thought, that his parents were still in the room, and he cut himself off again.

Fingon clarified. “He was dared to do it to someone. He did it to me in front of everyone who was there.”

“I think it would have upset you at the time if I had done it to someone else,” pointed out Maedhros.

“We could have left,” said Fingon.

Maedhros sighed. “You know how it was. They would have hounded us about it for years.”

“If you had to do that publicly so bad, there was always Huan,” retorted Fingon. 

“Classy, Fingon. What did that dog ever do to you? Besides, I do not recall you complaining that much at the time.” Maedhros stroked his chin, playing with the ruddy, trimmed patch of hair. When Fingon did not answer, Maedhros returned his attention to the game. “Alright. I have it.” He sat up and leaned forward a little. “I dare you to kiss Glorfindel the way you kiss Erestor.”

Fingon lowered his gaze with an obviously hurt look on his face. Erestor breathed in sharply and seemed to take offense at the phrasing as well, but Glorfindel, who had finished his snack and had only been quietly observing, said, “You do not have to, Fingon. I can help you rewrite your list if you want.”

“No. I mean…” Fingon looked now past Erestor and to Glorfindel. “I love you no less than I love Erestor. I…”

But Glorfindel shook his head and even smiled a little. “I expect that the two of you are going to have more romance, especially at present. Your love is new and blossoming and beautiful, and it does not make me jealous that there are things the two of you share that I do not. You make him so happy, and i can never be jealous of that. I am just so blessed that you both accepted me back. It helped me see what true love is, and I am content so long as the two of you are happy.”

Finrod poked at the contents of his dish in uncomfortable silence until he stood up and said, “I need to get more potato salad.” He walked briskly out of the room, followed by Amarië who announced, “I need to get more… something.”

“That was kind of mean, Maitimo,” said Gildor under his breath.

Maedhros already seemed to have been having second thoughts, for he picked up the pages and took them back. “Here. Sorry.”

Fingon lifted an arm and took the sheets back, but then set them aside. “No. The truth hurts sometimes.” He stood up and made his way to the other end of the couch, and there he took hold of Glorfindel’s hand and eased him up to stand. “I spend far more hours of my day with Eres, and while I do not mean to neglect you, I probably do romance him more. He and I share quiet moments at work, and sneak kisses down dark corridors, and hold hands while we travel home, and you miss so much of that.” 

Fingon bowed his head and lifted Glorfindel’s hand. He kissed his wrist and worked his way along Glorfindel’s arm, kissing freckles and the places in-between, and all the while, his other hand found Glorfindel’s waist and pulled him closer. “But I certainly never meant to be perceived as favoring one of you over the other. I am ever so fond of you, my dear Glorfindel.” He loosened his grip on Glorfindel’s hand and placed his upon Glorfindel’s cheek. “You speak of true love, and yes, that is what I feel -- for Erestor, yes, and for you. I have not done the best job showing it. Please forgive me.” Fingon wet his lips and tilted his head just slightly as he approached to keep his nose from knocking into Glorfindel's as Glorfindel closed his eyes and tilted his head up so that they met halfway. It was tentative to start, but as Fingon's hand slid back into Glorfindel's hair and his thumb bent to caress Glorfindel's ear, Glorfindel shifted and pressed closer, his hands first on Fingon's shoulders, then to the back of his neck, and now in his hair, fingertips rubbing his scalp. 

"How come you never kiss me like that?" asked Gildor.

Maedhros continued to watch the display before him, but after a few moments, he yanked a slightly surprised Gildor out of his chair and pulled him down into his lap. "You want to be kissed like that?" he asked, eyes unblinking.

Gildor shivered. "Who would not?"

"I thought you liked this better." As Maedhros kissed Gildor as he thought he wanted to be, Fingon showed no signs of stopping, and Glorfindel encouraged this with his faster breathing and occasional moans.

Erestor set his tea aside and managed to stand up and squeeze between Glorfindel and the couch. He began with his hands on Glorfindel's shoulders, massaging them as he leaned in and said, "Fingon is right. We do spend much time without you, and that is not fair to you, darling. I want you to know that you mean so very much to me. Not everyone is lucky enough to meet someone so wonderful and to share ages of their life with them." Erestor lifted back the golden tresses from Glorfindel's neck and kissed along the side of his throat, up to the curve of his jaw and then behind his ear before he whispered, "I hope you know how much I adore you, my love.”

The clatter of a plate brought all five of them to a sudden halt. In the doorway stood Celeborn, but only until Finrod appeared as well. “I told you not to go in there,” Finrod scolded. He scooped up whatever dropped onto the floor and then shoved Celeborn back from whence they came.

“How was I supposed to know…” The voices faded out. Then, Finrod popped in again. “You might want to take this game somewhere else,” he suggested before he left again. 

Gildor chuckled and wound a lock of red hair around his finger. “I know where I want to take this game.” He looked over his shoulder. “Care to join us for a few rounds of the adult version up in our guest room?”

Fingon still had his eyes on Glorfindel, and Erestor rested his chin on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “I think I just figured out my threshold,” said Fingon. “I always knew I desired more than one partner, but I think I have exactly what I want and need.”

If there was more to be said by Fingon, it was lost when Maedhros turned Gildor’s head back to look at him. “Did you just invite them to join us?”

“Uh… maybe?” Gildor batted his eyelashes. “I mean, they are awfully cute.”

“Unlike Fingon, I am extremely monogamous, and unlike Glorfindel, I get jealous easily,” warned Maedhros.

Gildor has his arms around Maedhros neck. “That sounds delightful. Care to show me just how jealous you can get?” 

Maedhros butted his nose up against Gildor’s. “You have sixty seconds to get to the room, strip, and prepare yourself. If I get up there and you are not ready for me, you are not going to enjoy the consequences.”

Gildor groaned and slid off of Maedhros lap. “I would stay and further the conversation with everyone, but as you heard, I suddenly have plans for the rest of the day.”

“Ten seconds gone,” announced Maedhros, and Gildor retreated before any of the other three could respond to him.

Fingon did not hold his tongue when it came to Maedhros. “That was quite… foreboding,” he decided on.

Maedhros stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. “I do nothing he does not want. He knows how to say ‘no’ before it becomes an issue.” Maedhros’ gaze lingered on Fingon a moment before he looked at Glorfindel and Erestor. “I will bid you a good night now, for I do not foresee us rejoining everyone until tomorrow.”

“I hope you have an enjoyable evening,” said Erestor.

“Oh, I will. I most certainly will,” declared Maedhros before he left in the direction that Gildor had. “I hope you do as well,” he called out. “Even you, Fingon.”

“Should we continue this elsewhere, or--” Erestor’s thoughts were interrupted by the voice of another.

“What is going on over here? We can hear the commotion from the opposite end of the house!”

“Indis,” hissed Erestor as Fingon stepped back and grabbed Glorfindel’s arm to pull him in the direction of a door that would hopefully not lead them in her direction. As an afterthought, Erestor grabbed for the loose sheets of paper and Fingon’s writing set. He slid out of the room just as Indis stepped in, with Finrod practically on her heels.

The matriarch looked around for clues while Finrod retold the tale of Celeborn dropping something on the rug and that all the noise must certainly have been the discussion of how to tend to it without staining. Indis took a bell from her pocket and rang it as Finrod spoke, and before he was through, one of the servants was tidying up the nonexistent stain from Celeborn’s misfortune. 

That was when Indis spies two dishes in the room, each with a pastry at varying degrees of consumption. “How wasteful! Everyone should know these are to be eaten with someone!” She directed the servant with a wave of her hand, and soon the room was once again in precise order. 

Finrod’s story did not appease Indis, for she continued on her way through the room and past the doorway that led to another part of the house. At first, nothing looked out of place. Then she spied it -- a tiny vial of ink on the stairway, the sort one would travel with. She walked to it and picked it up. It was half empty, which meant that someone was most certainly not relaxing, as was her intention every time she insisted upon these gatherings. She was more than aware that her children and their children and all of the in-laws and especially her husband’s child and his brood were prone to overworking themselves. One needed a holiday now and then, and what better holiday than one spent with family?

Soundlessly, she continued up the stairs and down the hallway after tucking the vial into her pocket with the bell. She could hear some noise up ahead, which meant that someone was not following her teatime directive. Indis shook her head and marched down the corridor. The sounds were closer, and coming from a room where noises used to emanate from in ages long past. 

It was a room once assigned to Maedhros and Maglor, and yet, so many mornings it would be Maedhros and Fingon who would emerge from the room. There was certainly noise coming from the room, and she tried to recall if it was now assigned to Maedhros and Gildor, or if Fingon and his companions would be behind the door. Either way, she would know soon enough, she decided, as she lifted her hand to knock on the wood.

“Oooooooh…oooooooooooooh...ooooOOOOOh!”

Indis pulled her hand back with wide eyes. That was when she recognized what the noise was -- it was the sound of the headboard hitting the wall at regular intervals. She could not place the voice, and quite frankly, she preferred not to. Stuck between wanting to scold someone for obviously bringing work to what was to be a relaxing week with family and trying to decide if scolding someone for relaxing too much was beyond her, she covered her ears as another moan escaped into the hallway. 

Perhaps Indis would take up her husband’s offer to construct some small, private houses on the property for future reunions she decided as she hurried back down the stairs.


End file.
